For The First Time
by halfwayhopeful
Summary: Oneshot, Songfic. After the Final Battle, Severus is surprised when Golden-Boy Harry Potter drops by for a visit . . . and insists he has fallen in love with him. Fluff and laughs ensue. Response to a challenge by suzuki1969. Reviews welcome.


For The First Time

Oneshot

Disclaimer: I own nothing. 'For The First Time' was written by Jud Friedman, Allen Rich, and James Newton-Howard.

A/N: This story is a response to a songfic challenge proposed by suzuki1969 in a PM. So, I dedicate this piece to her.

_Are those your eyes? Is that your smile?_

_I've been looking at you forever yet I never saw you before . . ._

"I was wrong." Why did such a simple statement have to be so difficult to say? Harry knew he would never be the Boy-Who-Apologized-Freely, but this was getting ridiculous. He had taken Severus' good hand in his own, and squeezed it, not hard, but enough to cause the older man to freeze dead in his tracks and stare at him. Harry wasn't sure if this was a good sign.

"I was wrong about you, from the very start, and I'm sorry I never told you before. I think I may be in love with you."

The last part was rushed, and no wonder. It was the first time Harry had ever stated this suspicion out loud, and it was still a bit hard to believe. They were in St. Mungo's. Even with Hermione's brilliant spell-work and Muggle first aid, the muscles on the entire left half of Severus' body might never function smoothly. Even now he was walking with the help of a stick not unlike Lucius Malfoy's, and the left side of his face was slow to respond, if at all. He had a hard time forming words, which Harry counted a fact in his favor, because he was less likely to be passed off or interrupted.

Quickly, so that he could not be misinterpreted, he moved in front of Severus and looked him straight in the eye, repeating himself as to not be misunderstood. "I've thought long and hard about this and . . . I think I love you."

The brief flash of horror in those pitch-black eyes and the hurried withdraw of the hand in his was enough to make Harry reconsider his original plan of fleeing after his confession, but he was grounded by the hiss that followed:

"Get. Out."

"Professor, I-"

"If you think that taunting a wounded man is humorous in any way, you are more like your arrogant father than I thought. I suggest you leave before I further prove my point." The words were slurred slightly, and spoken at a slower pace than Harry was accustomed to, but he winced as the dull point of Severus' wand jabbed him sharply just below his ribcage.

"I'm not taunting you. I could never do something like that, not after all you did for the Light Side . . . for me."

"If you are not out of my sight when I get to ten-"

Harry snatched Severus' wand from his weakened hand and threw it as far as he could. "Don't summon it. I need to talk to you, and I'd rather not worry about that thing spearing me in the ass."

Severus glared, his temple throbbing. "Potter . . ."

"Just listen. Do you really think I would risk you hexing me into the New Year if I didn't believe what I was saying was true?"

Severus shook his head, scowling. "You never struck me as a rationalist, Potter."

"Harry."

"What?"

"You can call me Harry, if you like."

"I would not like to. _Accio wand_."

Harry stepped aside and watched with a frown as Severus gasped his wand in his undamaged hand. He saw Severus' lips flicker in what could have been the beginning of a smirk, and when the older man voiced the hex, it came as an unexpectedly painful surprise.

_Are these your hands holding mine?_

_Now I wonder how I could have been so blind_

_And for the first time, I am looking in your eyes_

_For the first time I'm seeing who you are_

Severus had never felt so drained in his life. His magic was fluctuating, and it hurt, having a surge of magic one moment and an empty ache the next. He shouldn't have used such a powerful hex, or put so much force behind it, but he hadn't been able to resist, considering the Potter boy had been cruelly taunting him, and openly too.

He sighed and opted to keep his eyes closed, as he figured he wouldn't like whatever nurse was daring to physically take his pulse. _Wait . . . _The murmur of a voice, resonating, male, floated to the forefront of Severus' consciousness.

"I never really thought about it before, but you're pretty sexy when you're casting a hex. If I wasn't in so much pain right now, I'd be all flustered."

Severus groaned. No. It couldn't be.

"Is that your wand or are you happy to see me? Wait, they took your wand, and you hate me, so I guess you're waking up."

Severus opened his eyes . . . and promptly closed them again when he saw that Potter was indeed holding his hand, and was also in a hospital bed next to his own. He had requested a _private_ room, and so it had been. Damn. Damn it all to hell.

Harry ran a warm thumb across the back of Severus' hand, and the older man pulled it away, only to gasp in pain and take the abandoned hand in his own. His magic had . . . drained . . . quite painfully. Harry chuckled. "So you felt it too, huh?"

Severus mentally counted down from ten. Again. Again. If he was going to live through this . . .

"Severus?"

"Don't call me by my given name, you spineless ingrate. And let go of my hand." Severus braced himself, but when Harry released his hand, he choked on a groan and found Harry's hand waiting right where he left it.

"Please open your eyes."

Severus, simply for fear of his magic fluctuating again, obeyed and was surprised to find Harry looking right at him whilst lying on his side, his hair a complete mess, his glasses pressing into his temple.

Pure emerald burned in the afternoon sunlight, and Severus swore quietly.

"What?"

Ignoring the determined silence of the older man, Harry raised their joined hands up to bed level and pressed Severus' pale hand to his lips in a feather light touch before examining it. Severus' first reaction was to pull away, but he remembered the pain and simply growled, "Why, Potter?"

"Oh, you used some of your magic reserves to hex me. You really wore yourself out, and I have the scar to prove it."

"That's not what I was referring to. Why did you choose me as the target of your unwanted affection?"

Harry shrugged and scooched to the edge of his bed, his face now two inches away from the older man's. "It wasn't my decision to make. But I'm not unhappy about it."

Severus glared Harry and his stupid, stupid resemblance to James, but it was the eyes that got him; those blazing emeralds from earlier that had somehow become soft, reverent. Severus shivered. He had only seen that look once, and it most certainly had not been aimed toward him.

_I can't believe how much I see when you're looking back at me_

_Now I understand what love is, for the first time_

Severus flinched when Harry's lips met his, gentle as they were, and his magic surged forth, making him feel stronger than he had in the month since he'd been bitten. Those lips, so soft, were moving against his, and he thought for a split second that he wanted them to stop.

This wasn't right, because it was not rational. It was not rational because Harry was The-Boy-Who-Lived, twenty years his junior, and . . . admittedly perfect. Untainted. Whole.

Almost on reflex, Severus parted his lips to the quiet pleadings of Harry's tongue. The younger man moaned and attacked the unknown with vigor.

_Can this be real? Can this be true?_

_Am I the person I was this morning and are you the same you?_

Their tongues touched for a moment, tentatively, but it was soon a battle for dominance, and Harry had to admit Severus was winning. The older man was kissing without restraint now, and his forceful movements, orchestrated chaos, were slowly driving Harry insane. He could feel himself growing aroused. Before he completely lost all control he had over his body, he pulled away, but not before teasing Severus' bottom lip between his teeth. The older man inhaled sharply, and Harry could swear he whimpered slightly at the loss when he finally pulled away.

As with before, it was the eyes that got him. Only this time it was the lazy lift of eyelids, the slight glaze of those dark, dark eyes, which made _Harry_ wish he were a stronger man. He had never seen Severus look so . . . vulnerable. Open. Human.

It was so easy to love an image, and unreal humanoid with no visible emotions, measured reactions. But the reluctance, the slow naiveté that he saw in Severus now was so real it was nearly painful. He closed his eyes and anchored himself to the present.

_It's all so strange. How can it be?_

_All along this love was right in front of me_

_And for the first time I am looking in your eyes_

_For the first time I'm seeing who you are_

Severus' tongue moved slowly within his closed mouth. He could still taste Harry on the slick surface of his teeth, smell him, feel him . . . He knew it was damned, and he knew it was wrong. But it seemed so real, and new, and untouched by Voldemort, although that was the biggest irony of all, considering both their lives had been so strongly affected by the deceased Dark Lord.

He wanted to say something, but it was the knowledge that doing so would end this moment that stopped him. They would go back to being Snape and Potter, teacher and student, broken and breaking, ruthless and caring, darkness and light, hideous and handsome, faithless and hopeful, downtrodden and victorious.

Blinded by hatred and made virtuous by love.

He squeezed Harry's hand in encouragement and tugged lightly, hoping the boy got the point.

_I can't believe how much I see when you're looking back at me_

_Now I understand what love is, for the first time_

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he felt Severus tug on their clasped hands. He looked to the older man, half-afraid he had imagined it, all of it, but Severus' expression was the closest thing to playful Harry had ever seen from the stony man next to him; his heart leapt at the thought that he had caused that, had given that opportunity to the man he loved. Or, was completely convinced he harbored affections for. Whichever.

Unclasping their hands, feeling the slight twinge of magic that followed, Harry quickly stood and clambered onto Severus' hospital bed, lying cautiously on top of the older man before the arms around his waist, one decidedly stronger than the other, suggested the position was not uncomfortable.

_Such a long time ago I had given up on finding this emotion ever again_

_But you're here with me now; yes I found you somehow, and I've never been so sure_

Stomach to stomach, face to face, Severus wondered how he had failed to notice how beautiful Harry was. It was not a sudden realization, or an epiphany, but a slow end to years of routine observation, a final and resounding click.

Harry's lips were bruised and his face was flushed. Severus thought it made him look more vulnerable, a trait he found he liked, along with the realization that he was probably destined to be the dominant half of this relationship. But was it a relationship? Severus considered the question a moment, and for the first time in a long time, decided that he didn't need an answer right away. Maybe it would come to him.

_And for the first time I am looking in your eyes, for the first time I'm seeing who you are_

_Can't believe how much I see when you're looking back at me_

_Now I understand what love is for the first time_

_For the first time_


End file.
